Wednesday, May 3, 2017

Cuckleberry grew up in an average west coast town. Some would call it hipster, but he just called it home. As a young boy, Cuckle knew he wasn't ever going to grow up to be a man. Hell, he determined himself to do quite the opposite.

But Cuckle, he didn't go on a real journey. No, that isn't something a Cuckle does. Instead, he settled to do it all from his couch, on the Internet. Never venturing far from home, Cucks grew where he was planted, and his roots spread all across social media.

He started out sort of like most folks do: making friends with strangers and uploading his crappy band's albums to soundcloud, but then, one day, he discovered social injustices. He was flabbergasted that his great, great, great, great, great grandpappy knew somebody that knew somebody that knew somebody that may have owned a slave. And that slave maybe had kids who had kids who had kids who had kids who had a kid that got arrested for a crime. From that moment on, Cuckleberry set out to undo the past and set all these present wrongs aright.

Cuckle didn't want to live near the blacks, though. Personal experiences and interactions couldn't learn him as much as the 100 character Twitter posts, including hashtags. Plus black people were big and scary. So he just needed to read all the BLM approved articles written by black people who also didn't live near other black people.

From them he learned that he was a bad man. That his skin color was actually responsible for everything wrong with almost everything you could think of, Getting a tan wouldn't fix it, either. And the only way to make up for the eternal sin of being white was to share every single article written by a black person that talks about how bad and oppressive white skin is.

He felt so good pushing that thumbs up and share button on Facebook. It was like a weight being lifted off his shoulders. Minutes of manufactured guilt for being born with lower melanin levels just washed away. And it let Cucks hold his head real high, in a moral superiority, after every post.

But being a true Cuckle means more than just hating your skin color. You have to hate everything about yourself, including that dilly dang between the good ole Cuckle clapper. No, being a straight white male was to be born privileged. It was the worst thing a person could be, and when he eventually found Mrs. Cuckle, she also agreed that if they ever had children, they would teach them to also hate themselves.

And so that passed, too. The first born Cuckle was a boy, but as such, he was shunned by the cucks. Every day from breakfast to bed he was only taught the struggles of the LBGTQ community. How evil and oppressive his normality was and how brave and inspiring their differences were. So the eldest born Cuckle, tired of being a boring disappointment, declared himself a girl before he even really hit puberty, and Momma and Daddy, not needing any professional opinion on the matter, bought a cake and celebrated the birthday of their new daughter. But more importantly, they could finally stop feeling so guilty and ashamed of being such a normal family.

But then horror struck: A republican president was elected. This was the worst day of Cuckleberry's life. Nazi, Fascist, KKK members had now taken over the free world. Well, Cuckle didn't take this laying down. No, he sat erect on his desk chair and declared that he was going to purge his friend's list of anyone who voted for this evil dictator.

But cuckle didn't get rid of them all. He left some that he didn't know actually disagreed with his extremism -- I mean correct and very reasonable views. One in particular was a very sarcastic man who Cuckle had spent a lot of years talking to before he became a full Cuck. And this would cause Cuckleberry great grief. This man had corrected him a few times on articles he shared that denounced Irish Slavery as ever being real or stories of the statue of Liberty being Muslim.

See, the president and the other fascists weren't fans of Muslims. Even though Muslims were throwing LBGTQ people off buildings and would behead the Cuckles new daughter, on principle alone, they couldn't be that bad because the new Nazis wanted to make it harder for some of them to get into the country, and the majority of them aren't white, so they clearly are the same.

But being a Cuckle and not knowing what balls actually are, there was no way to express disagreement. The man kept correcting his buzzfeed quality articles and disrupting his daily white guilt sessions. Cuckleberry just couldn't take it anymore and instead of trying to debate him, he did the only thing a Cuckle could do, he went and unfriended him on Facebook, then unfriended his wife who was actually more his friend and had done nothing to offend him, then unfollowed his inactive twitter that hadn't been used in nearly 7 years, Then signed into google to unfollow his blog that he hasn't written an entry in, well even he can't even remember because he's too busy with work to care.

Friday, January 30, 2015

I've had an off and on relationship with the martial arts almost my entire life. And about seven months ago I enrolled, for the first time, in TaeKwonDo. Before I actually learned it, the only thing I really knew about the martial art came from video games like Tekken and The King of Fighters. Also, it was featured in one of my favorite, cheesy martial arts movies, The Best of the Best.

Wednesday, May 28, 2014

Trying to be a successful writer can be quite difficult. For those of us who hold day jobs, doubly so. My wife is a good example of someone who can hold down a job, come home, and be creative. It’s why she’s published; it’s why she’s a best seller. I, on the other hand, have always struggled to come home, after a shift, and pick up the pen.
Continue Reading on (Amazing Stories)

Before I get into anything, I don't really recommend reading this. Although several media outlets have called this work a manifesto, which it is in part, it's more of an autobiography, really. But if you're thinking of educating yourself as to what sort of horrors it must take to turn a young boy into a mass murderer and serial killer, I'll save you the time as this book is mostly filled with banal non events and the rantings of a misanthropic malcontent.

Friday, March 28, 2014

6. I'm sick with (ex: the flu).
Oh, I didn't know. I thought you were well with the flu. You can add whatever illness you want to this one, but if you say this, you should get checked for redundancy.

5. Washed Off
Really? As opposed to washing it on?

4. It was a dark night.
I can't count how many times I've heard or read variations of this phrase. A Wrinkle in Time even starts out with this cliche. Night is dark by definition. Sure, some nights are darker than others, depending on the cloud coverage and phase of the moon, but it's the most non descriptive description, ever. You're not really saying anything!

3. Tuna Fish:
Oh, you're eating a tuna FISH sandwich. My mistake, I thought you were having the tuna beef.

2. I have the hiccups.
Seriously, you weren't just faking them?

1. I'm Back.
Even with online conversations, I think people can figure this one out for themselves.

Thursday, February 20, 2014

There was this time, way back, when I’d laugh at the idea of my parents playing a videogame. I mean, sure, they had some fun with Pacman and Mario Bros., but it was a novelty for them. Naturally, us kids were better because we took to it with the obsessive, hedonistic passion that would’ve made Aleister Crowley proud. So, with all those childhood hours invested, surely we haven’t become the ham-handed controller wielding doppelgangers of our technologically unhip, parents – have we? I hate to break it to you, but here’s five reasons why you now suck at video games.
Continue reading onAmazing Stories.

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

The emperor stands before an AT-AT, which rests on the TV
stand above a David Tennant Years box set of Doctor Who, above Star Trek: TNG seasons.
To my left is a life size replica of R2D2. To my right are book shelves,
populated by the likes of Asimov, Card, Clarke, Herbert, Huxley, Lovecraft,
Orwell, Martin, Tolkien, etc. But take a closer look, and you’ll find a contact
juggling ball, a chain-mail bag filled with gaming dice, two sonic screwdriver
replicas, Star Trek insignia badges, little dolls of Einstein and Tesla, an RC
helicopter, and a homemade replica of one of Tom Baker’s giant scarves, acting
as the cherry to this layer cake of dorkness.